by L. A. Nisula
“I will. Thank you.”
Mr. Fredrickson’s account made perfect sense and fit what we had observed, so I decided to tell Milly it was safe enough to remove him from our list of suspects unless some new evidence presented itself. At least I’d learned that one bit of information. And if I ruled out enough suspects, perhaps one of the remaining ones would reveal something incriminating if watched closely enough.
When I got back up to the room, Milly had gone, but she had left a note telling me she was planning to take tea in the garden with “the gentlemen.” I wasn’t certain which gentlemen she meant, but clearly she didn’t think she needed a chaperone anymore, although whether that was because she wasn’t interested in them or because she was, I didn’t like to think too hard on. I took the opportunity of having the room to myself to sort through what I’d learned so far. I sat at the desk with some Fellcroft Hotel notepaper from the drawer and a pen and noted down everything I had learned so far and then sat there, staring at what I’d written.
I was still staring at the list when Milly came in. “Have you solved it yet?” she asked as she dropped her hat on the desk beside my notes, inadvertently covering my writing with the ribbons.
I didn’t bother to move the ribbons aside. “No. I haven’t even made any progress. And it is so frustrating. We saw the murder committed. We know how it was done. There should be some clue to who did it.”
Milly sat down on the bed. “Doesn’t one of your police friends always say that eyewitness reports are the least reliable?”
“All of them do. But it still seems like we should have something.” Or perhaps I simply didn’t want to believe I was as bad a witness as everyone else.
Milly shrugged. “You always solve them in the end. Mr. Gibson was saying how dull everything’s become now. No one wants to do anything. I think he was trying to propose a trip somewhere, but Mr. Armstrong pointed out that most of the guests were already spending time in town. And then Mr. Longridge came over and...”
I stood up. The last thing I needed at the moment was a long list of all of Milly’s gentlemen and their opinions on the entertainment.
“Where are you going?”
“You were right about eyewitness accounts. I’m going to have a proper look at the scene of the crime.”
“Oh, but Mr. Fellcroft has the baths blocked off. Mr. Gibson said it was until the current group of guests leaves. I suppose he thought it would be insensitive to keep it open.”
I wondered how much of it was sensitivity and how much was knowing that, as none of the current guests would use the baths now, it would be expensive and rather pointless to keep the heat and fragrances going if there was no one there to appreciate it. Then I chided myself for being overly suspicious. Mr. Fellcroft was a nice man; he probably was upset by the incident. “That will make it easier to poke around, then. Do you need anything while I’m down there?” It seemed safe enough to ask since she’d just eaten, and it would forestall any offers to accompany me.
“No, I’m going to rest a bit. Good luck.”
“Thank you, I think I’ll need it.”
Chapter 12
THE HALLWAY TO THE BATHS was blocked by a velvet rope and a sign reading “Closed until further notice.” It was easy enough to unhook the rope, slip around, and re-attach it. The hallway was strangely silent. Even though there had been no one else there when Milly and I had passed through it the first time, there had been the sounds of bathers in pool and the whir of the machinery. Now there was nothing but the sound of my own footsteps.
The bathing room was much cooler, no doubt because the steam heater had been allowed to go out. The water was still and clearer than it had seemed when we’d been there. The floral scent that was added to the water was much less cloying, whether from the lack of heat or the fact that no more had been added in quite some time, I wasn’t certain. I walked to the edge of the bath and looked across. Someone had left an arrangement of white roses near the door and placed a wreath of yellow roses near the spot where Miss Caldwell had been killed. I wondered if Mr. Fellcroft had been behind it and felt bad again for having assumed his motives were mercenary. It also made it easy to see where everything was in relation to where Miss Caldwell had been killed.
Not that there was anything to see. The water was clear enough now that the bottom of the pool was visible, but all I could see were the marble tiles that covered it. I wasn’t certain what I’d hoped to find, but it seemed, unless I was planning on renting another bathing costume and diving into the pool, I wasn’t going to find it. I stepped back from the water’s edge and leaned against one of the columns.
There had to be something I was missing. Miss Caldwell had said, “Fancy that,” as if she’d seen something or someone unexpected. So who would that have been? And how could someone have slipped into the water and snuck up behind her without her noticing? I’d thought Milly and I had been the last to arrive before the murder, and we had been able to see everyone already there as we approached, but perhaps I’d been wrong. Once we were in the water, new arrivals might have been easier to miss, particularly if one were facing away from the entrance as I had been for part of the time. That might be an area to pursue, finding out the order in which people arrived and if anyone came in after we did. The Bates sisters had been facing the entrance; I could ask them both for the order of arrivals and if they saw someone arrive after we did. And perhaps they would know whom Miss Caldwell was likely to have been surprised to see. Unless Mr. Langley’s legs had proven too much of a distraction for them as well.
Having at least one new area to explore made me feel much better, and I set about trying to think of another. I was so deep in thought that I almost didn’t notice a shadow moving across the water. When I did, I nearly jumped back, and as I was standing near the pool, that would not have been advisable. The shadow kept approaching. I edged closer to the nearest column, hoping to conceal myself until I could see who it was. I remembered several people telling me that murderers always return to the scene of the crime, simultaneously reminding myself that I had never once heard it from one of my Scotland Yard friends and wishing I had one of my more lethal-looking hatpins.
The shadow came close to the column and then Mr. Langley stepped around. I came out from my hiding place. “Mr. Langley, you startled me.”
Mr. Langley didn’t seem nearly as surprised to find someone else in the baths as I had been. “I’m sorry, Miss Pengear. I was just checking to see if I left something here.”
“Not a cigarette case, was it?”
“No, nothing like that. A towel. A rather nice one.” He smiled a bit sheepishly. “It matches my eyes. One of the old dears gave it me months ago. It might have gotten into the things going to the laundry. I’ll check there.”
“How did you get in?” I glanced towards the side door the Fredricksons had left by, but it was still closed. “I thought I’d hear anyone coming down the passage.”
“There’s a staff door just over there.” He pointed to a green baize door tucked behind one of the columns, almost hidden from view.
“Is it locked?”
“No, not while the baths are open anyway.”
“So someone could have snuck in through there.” It was sheltered enough that they might not have been noticed by the rest of us.
“You mean that afternoon?” No need to ask which afternoon. “It would have had to have been staff, then. The kitchen hallway is there, and the dumbwaiter for the laundry, and there’s a dining room for us. If a guest had been back there, someone would have noticed and said something.”
“Even if they didn’t think there had been a murder?”
“It would have nothing to do with the murder. Most of the staff...” He paused as if he’d thought better of saying something, then tried, “Some of the guests can be quite difficult. The staff sees our area as a place where we don’t have to deal with them. If there was a guest there, they would be reported, and the person reporting would say it was for
safety, but really it would be to prevent them from hearing us complain about them.”
“I see. So none of the guests could have been back there without someone reporting it. But would anyone have reported it to the police, or only to Mr. Fellcroft?”
“I don’t really know. And I suppose Mr. Fellcroft wouldn’t be eager for that kind of lapse to be known. But I think I would have heard if someone had been seen there. Someone would be complaining about it. And I haven’t heard anything like that.”
I nodded. It was still worth asking about, I supposed. I looked in the direction he’d come. “Is the water shallow all around the edges?”
“Along the three sides you can walk on, yes. Over by the back wall there, it’s whatever depth the pool is at. It’s as if the wall was dropped into the middle of the pool. Well, more three-quarters of the way across, but you see what I mean.”
“I do.” It meant someone could have swum to the area near the staff door and gotten out of the water to wait for Miss Caldwell. Or would she have been able to see them if they were there? It was worth checking. Mr. Langley was standing more or less where I had been sitting, so I asked, “Would you mind waiting there for a minute?”
“Certainly.” Mr. Langley didn’t question why.
I started walking around the edge of the pool. I got as far as the staff door and looked out over the water, but the wreath was clearly visible. I suspected Miss Caldwell would have seen someone hiding there. “Can you see me from there?”
“Not clearly, but I can tell there’s someone there from the reflection. And from the water, it would be easy to see you.”
So he’d figured out what I was doing. I followed the perimeter all the way to the back wall, past the decorative columns, until I had to squeeze behind the steam heater. The water flowed all the way to the back of the room until it hit the back wall. There was a door in the wall, near the opposite side of the pool from where I stood but over the water. “Where does that go?”
Mr. Langley looked over. “It’s just a maintenance entrance. It goes to the main boiler room and connects to the rest of the staff areas.”
“Is it as crowded as the other area?”
“Not at all, not unless they’re working on the boiler or the pool.”
“And the water goes behind the door?”
“That’s right, the door only extends a couple of inches below the surface of the water, otherwise it would be too hard to open with the weight of the water against it. The pool goes behind the wall for about two feet. As I said, it’s as if that wall was dropped into the pool. It’s there in case they need to add any treatments to the water, or mineral salts or the perfume that hides the smell of the salts. This way it can be done without bothering the guests.”
And without the guests realizing the genuine Bath water was doctored. “Could someone swim through?”
“Yes, it was designed that way, in case someone needs assistance when we don’t have mixed bathing. It allows the staff to stay discreetly in the water if they’re needed.”
“So someone could have gotten out this way.”
“I suppose, if they knew about it.”
And that would merely take a bit of planning. I wondered how obvious it would be if someone came in that way and hid behind the columns on the edge of the pool near the corner there. “Would you toss something into the water by the door?”
Mr. Langley looked surprised at the request, but he didn’t question it. He took a rose from the arrangement by the door and went around to the opposite side of the pool. Once he was in position, I squeezed myself behind the steam heater and waited near the entrance. When Mr. Langley had tossed the flower into position, I started to walk around the pool again. The arrangement of the columns hid the door, the flower, and Mr. Langley in the corner from most angles, and as it was a staff door, it was unlikely anyone would pay much attention to someone they glimpsed beside it. There was one spot where I thought I could see him. I almost wished I’d asked Mr. Douglas along; he would probably have been willing to jump into the bath and see if Mr. Langley was visible from further out in the water. “Do you remember who was here?”
Mr. Langley came forward so he could see where I was. “Miss Grangeway and her chaperone were in the water leaning against the side there.”
Miss Grangeway hadn’t seen anyone, but Miss Caldwell had been passing near her when she saw something unusual. It could have been someone she wasn’t expecting coming through the maintenance entrance or hiding near it, and when we were all looking at the rescue efforts, it might have been possible for someone to slip back out again through the door, especially if they stayed in the water.
“Were you done with me, Miss Pengear?”
“What? Oh, sorry, yes. Thank you, Mr. Langley.”
“If I can be of any more help, don’t hesitate to ask.” He came back around the pool towards the staff door. “I’ll let the others know the flowers were of some practical value.”
“Others? So you helped arrange for them?”
“Yes, a few of us chipped in. We wanted to do something, and it was all we could think of.”
So, not Mr. Fellcroft, then. “It was a nice thought.” I went back to staring at the water. Mr. Langley said something before he left, but I didn’t notice what it was.
I continued to stare at the water. If that was how Miss Caldwell’s killer got in, it didn’t bring us any closer to finding out who it was. Anyone could have figured out how to use the door with a little planning and perhaps a previous trip to the baths.
Chapter 13
UNFORTUNATELY, STARING AT THE WATER didn’t bring me any closer to figuring out who our killer was either. I finally gave up and started back to the room. At least I would be more comfortable thinking there. The whole affair was extremely frustrating. I had seen the murder, I’d figured out how it had been committed; it should have been simple enough to solve it, and yet with all that information at my disposal, I was no closer to having something to bring to Inspector Sanders than I had been when it happened. I doubted he would listen to a well-thought-out chain of events. He’d want a murderer he could charge, and that was the one piece of the puzzle I didn’t have.
“Miss Pengear? I thought that was you.”
I was so deep in my thoughts, I hadn’t had the presence of mind to avoid anyone in the lobby. I turned towards the voice and saw Miss Morrison coming out of the dining room. “Good afternoon. I trust you enjoyed your lunch?”
“I did, thank you, but were you just in the baths?” She sounded slightly horrified at the thought. I couldn’t blame her, considering.
“I was. I wanted to have a look around.”
“Oh my. I don’t think I could go back in there.”
“That’s probably why Mr. Fellcroft has them closed, as no one else would want to either. I was simply having a look.”
Miss Morrison looked ready to ask me something, but Miss Grangeway came out of the dining room at that moment. “I’m sorry to rush off, but if I have to hear once more about the shortcomings of Gretna Green...”
As I didn’t want to prolong the awkward conversation with Miss Morrison, I nodded. “You could slip out into the garden. The Bates sisters won’t say anything.”
“I think I will. Thank you for understanding.”
I waited until she’d slipped through to the lounge then tried to go back to considering the case. It was the connection we were still missing, to a guest or the hotel or the town or something. Some reason she’d suddenly decided to ask an acquaintance to come here with her.
“Excuse me, miss?”
One would think after running into Miss Morrison I’d have been more careful, but I’d already become too wrapped up in the case again to notice the new guest, a young man with a puzzled look on his face, standing at the front desk. I fervently hoped I wasn’t the one being addressed, but when I turned, the young man was looking directly at me. As I couldn’t very well pretend I hadn’t seen him when I was looking directly back at him,
I said, “Yes?”
The young man took that as an invitation to join me, which I suppose it was. As he approached, I was able to see that he was indeed young, closer to Miss Morrison’s age than mine, blond, brown-eyed, fashionably dressed. “I’m terribly sorry to bother you, but I am new here, Mr. Rivers, and I couldn’t help but notice you were speaking with Miss Morrison a moment ago.”
“That’s correct.”
“Then I hope you can help me. I’m looking for a friend she might be traveling with. My fiancée, actually. A Miss Caldwell.”
I bit my lip. This was the absolute worst part of investigating crimes. “Oh dear, they didn’t tell you?”
The man looked sidewise at me. “Tell me? They didn't tell me anything at the desk.”
“Then I’m very sorry to have to tell you this, but Miss Caldwell has passed away.”
“What? How is that possible? What happened?” He was shocked, I could tell, but he didn’t seem upset enough to have been a close acquaintance either. I was beginning to wonder if Miss Caldwell had had any, or only the sort of surface friends brought about by proximity.
“She was drowned in the bathing pool at the hotel. I’m very sorry.” I spotted Milly waving to me from the other end of the lobby. At this distance, I couldn’t tell if she was trying to get my attention to rescue her from some unwanted suitor or if she was trying to get an introduction to Mr. Rivers. I pretended I hadn’t noticed her, which was difficult, as she was waving her arm in a manner which could have been mistaken for an effort at flying. “There’s an Inspector Sanders at the police station. He would be able to tell you more.”
“Thank you, I’ll try him. Could you direct me?”
As I was giving him directions to the police station, Milly came across the lobby. “Hello, Cassie. You must not have seen me wave.”
An introduction, then. “No, I was talking to Mr. Rivers. He was Miss Caldwell’s fiancé and hadn’t been told of the tragedy yet. Mr. Rivers, my cousin, Mildred Prynne.”